


Avoid Your Mother

by crystalkei



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Bellamy work at the same law firm and despite being incredibly attracted to one another, they can’t stand each other. But Bellamy has a secret and Clarke stumbles onto it completely by accident. Spending Valentine’s Day together afterwards isn’t planned, but it ends up being a great idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avoid Your Mother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prosciutto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosciutto/gifts).



It was an unusual night. The stuffy corporate firm had won a huge case. Millions of dollars would flow into the law firm and everyone was being treated for the months of hard work that they’d all put in on top of regular caseloads. The verdict was handed down around four in the afternoon and the partners had the office drenched in champagne and top shelf scotch by five. It was now seven and they were both much more relaxed and chattier than they would normally be.

Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake hated each other. She considered him an arrogant know-it-all and he thought of her as an overworked stick-in-the-mud. But tonight was an unusual night. And they were sitting in a corner of the swanky conference room because the two arm chairs in the back corner were the best.

“Why’d you become a lawyer?” Bellamy asked Clarke, his words were slow and his voice was deep.

Clarke tried to ignore the way her body reacted to just his voice. When she’d first started here she’d been instantly attracted to him, that is before she actually interacted with him. He was good looking and his smile could probably bring peace to the entire world but when he opened his mouth she wanted to punch his pretty nose.

But loose, drunk, his eyes twinkling in the low light, it was taking all the restraint she had to not climb into his lap and taste his tongue to see what he was drinking. She considered that plan of action, but even in her intoxicated state, she remembered that this was work and the senior partners had slipped into offices, not gone home completely. Plus, the assistants, paralegals, and interns were still around and she didn’t like the idea of being office gossip.

All of that didn’t even come near the actual implications of making out with Bellamy Blake. It was like a competition or a game of chicken, who could resist the longest? She wasn’t going to go down first.

And it _was_ a mutual attraction. Some days she wore the ridiculous backseam thigh highs just because she caught him staring once. He’d gone so far as to lick his lips and look at hers when they were arguing over details of a case and how to defend it. She knew he wanted her too.

“My mom was pushing me to go to medical school. My dad said I could do whatever I wanted.” She figured answering the question honestly was better than finding out if she could straddle him in that chair without anyone noticing. “Dad said they’d pay for whatever grad school, so I picked law school just to piss my mom off.” She leaned forward in her chair and bit her lip. “It worked.”

“You’re a cliche through and through, Griffin,” he said, giving an easy half smile. “Princess wants to annoy family so she rebels against her incredible privilege by being successful at an equally upper class job.”

“Fuck you,” she muttered. She wanted to fuck him but that didn’t mean that she liked the way his smile grew wider, he knew he was getting to her. “Why did you become a lawyer? To get paid to mock people and prove you’re always right?”

Bellamy seemed to take a moment, maybe he was looking for a lie or maybe he was coming up with a witty retort or maybe he just wanted to watch her squirm. Clarke leaned back into the chair and picked up her drink. She watched the liquid in the glass, waiting for Bellamy to answer. Finally he raised an eyebrow.

“To protect people.”

Clarke tilted her head and studied him for a moment. She’d seen his arguments in court, she’d seen him flirt with everyone, she’d seen him work a jury over. She’d never seen his face so honest. (Except the time she caught him tipping the cleaning staff at Christmas. It was the only time she considered he might actually have a soul.)

“We work at what some public defenders have called t _he firm that even the devil thinks is too evil_ ,” she countered.

“I didn’t imagine working here when I was going to law school,” Bellamy said with a laugh. “Besides, the devil thinks we’re evil because of our obscene paychecks.”

“So who are you protecting now? Other people’s money? Old white guys who definitely killed their business partners but want to get away with it so they hire us?”

“You work here, too, don’t get on your high horse,” he replied, not at all bothered by her suggestion.

Clarke shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. But she could tell he was holding something back. That’s what Clarke was good at as a lawyer, finding the spot where people were not quite telling the truth. The part where the story was weak. She could get in there and exploit that weakness. But not tonight.

“Mr. Blake, you have a phone call,” his assistant said from behind Clarke.

He blew out a breath and stood up from the chair without taking his eyes off Clarke. It was predatory and Clarke’s skin grew hot.

“Later, Griffin,” he said before finally nodding at his assistant.   
  
She wasn’t sure if it was a goodbye or a promise. Clarke heard the assistant walk off but Bellamy was still in front of her.

“Forget how to put one foot in front of the other?” she asked dryly.

“Just wanted to enjoy the view one more second,” he said, causing her to shiver. “You should let your hair down more often.”

“Good thing I don’t care what you think,” she said reflexively but there wasn’t nearly enough venom in it to sting.

He laughed and walked off.

–

Getting Valentine’s Day off was the easiest thing ever. People were content to work or take the afternoon, taking the whole day was unheard of. And when he let his normally smooth and focused exterior down to ask the partners for the day off to visit his mother’s grave, it worked every time. He’d long cultivated the ways to get out of Valentine’s Day anything: parties, dates, casual drinks, night out with the boys. Well, Miller knew so it wasn’t something he had to lie about. But otherwise, he had the routine down. His assistant blocked off the day and it was easy.

The cab pulled up to the penitentiary and Bellamy sighed. It was draining to do this but Octavia took his car to do an overnight college tour. (She swore she wasn’t going to meet her boyfriend up there but Bellamy knew a lie when he saw it.) He’d thought about hiring a town car for the trip but receipts would leave a paper trail and he was serious about keeping this secret.

He went through the sign in process and before long he was sitting at the uncomfortable table that was drilled to the floor waiting for his mother.

“No chocolates?” she said when she walked to the table.

He watched other inmates hug their families. He didn’t even bother to stand up.

“Hello to you too,” he said sharply.

“Your sister didn’t come?” his mother asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.

“Of course not.”

“I’d like the chance to talk to her, she never writes me back.”

“She puts your letters right into the trash, Mom.”

“Mom?” a familiar voice asked from behind him.  
  
Bellamy turned quickly, panic coursing through him. It was Clarke Griffin. Clarke Griffin. From work. Shit.

“Hi!” his mother cooed and Bellamy closed his eyes tightly. He’d rather be in a courtroom presenting closing statements in his underwear.  

Bellamy stood up and took the ten steps to get to Clarke Griffin. In her blouse and her pencil skirt and dammit her heels that cost more than his first car. Usually he was dressed in an expensive suit, his hair slicked back, but for this yearly visit he dressed down: jeans, loose hair, an old hoodie.

He grabbed her elbow and walked her back another 10 steps to the wall.

“Get your hand off me please,” she said firmly, shaking her arm out of his grip.

All he could do was crowd her space. He wasn’t exactly sure how to handle this. He just knew he was angry and embarrassed.

“I thought your mom was dead,” Clarke said surprised.

“I never told you that. You just assumed,” he replied.

“What did she do?”

She was so forward, all business, it threw him off, he was flustered by the whole situation and her directness was making it worse.

“This is why people with a parent in jail don’t mention it. No one wants to get that question,” Bellamy said.

“Sorry,” she said softly, as though she realized that this was embarrassing for him. “It’s none of my business.”

The last thing he wanted was her pity though. He hated pity.

“It isn’t.” He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “She…she tried to kill my sister. Octavia was 10, Mom was drunk, I was at work.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and as soon as he started he couldn’t stop. “My mom’s been messed up for a long time. She never wanted Octavia. She smacked us around all the time. She assaulted the officer that came out when a neighbor called the cops so she’s serving 12 years.”

“That seems excessive,” Clarke noted, her profession overtaking any personal opinions.

“Well, the officer got quite a beating too, she’s not a delicate woman, my mother,” he admitted.

Bellamy felt a strange relief in telling her this. They fought all the time, but now he’d pushed her up against a wall and confessed his biggest secret. Not really the way he’d imagined getting her up against a wall. No, those fantasies ended differently and took place in an entirely different location. (His office, her office, the copy room, his bedroom.)

Last night felt like a step in a direction he’d been trying to avoid but not for lack of wanting. Oh, he wanted it, her, but they shouldn’t. Work was one reason but also he feared it’d be too comfortable. He worried giving in to her would mean a messy ride that involved fighting about everything. He already fought for a living, he didn’t need it in his personal life. Even if he wanted to feel every part of her skin, run his hands through her hair, and worship her body.

He put his hands in his pockets but kept his eyes on her face, looking for judgement or the dreaded pity. Instead though, she did like she did last night. She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully.

“My mom just verbally broke me,” she said evenly.

“Smart. Doesn’t leave any marks.”

They stood staring at each other for a moment before she spoke again, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t joke about it.”

Bellamy took the information and filed it away and then honestly responded, “It’s fine, the jokes aren’t usually so self deprecating so I don’t mind yours.”

“So when you said you became a lawyer to protect people, you meant your mother?”

He laughed humorlessly. “No, I meant my sister. I became a lawyer so that if my Mom made parole and tried to get custody of my sister, I could stop that. She’s unfit to parent and I won’t put Octavia in a position to be near my mother if she doesn’t want to be.”

Clarke nodded. “Well, I guess you should get back to it.”

Bellamy looked over his shoulder at his mother who waved and smiled. It made Bellamy feel sick.

“Why are you even here?” he asked Clarke, avoiding his mother for another minute.

“Elouise Pointer,” Clarke explained. “She’s being held here and I’m on the team to prep for her parole hearing.”

“Just you?” Bellamy asked curious.

“No one else wanted to come all the way out here on Valentine’s Day. Most people are leaving work early today.” Clarke raised an eyebrow. “You always have Valentine’s Day off, do you always come out here?”

“It’s the only day I visit her. Obviously I’m not very fond of her,” he said. “Plus it’s a good excuse.”

“Everyone knows?”

“I tell them my mom died on the 14th. I haven’t been on a date on Valentine’s Day in years. It’s a foolproof plan.”

“That’s genius. I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“You should tell people your dad died on Valentine’s Day.”

“Damn, that’s genius,” she said again and he decided he liked the brazen compliment.

“I like to hear you admit I’m brilliant.”  

“Bellamy, please tell me your brought your girlfriend,” his mother called and Bellamy cringed.

“I can pretend if you like,” Clarke answered quickly, but the pink on her cheeks gave her away.

He smiled wickedly, feeling more like himself and less like a kid scared of being exposed.

“Not necessary, but thanks for the offer,” he said, resisting the urge to lean in closer to her.

“Ms. Griffin,” the guard on the other end of the room called and Bellamy saw her game face slide into place.

She cleared her throat, pulled down on her blouse, (he didn’t stare at her breasts…much) and she took a step to the side of him, walking towards the guard. Bellamy closed his eyes for a moment, mentally prepping again to finish his visit with his mother.

“She’s cute,” Aurora said as he sat back down across from her.

Bellamy ignored her.

“I put some more money on your commissary account. Don’t spend it all in one place,” he said without feeling.

“Do you ever date? You used to date in high school but I think that’s the last time I saw you date.”  
  
“I’m very busy, Mom.”

–

Clarke could barely concentrate on the task at hand. Elouise Pointer was an insufferable woman. She was exactly like Clarke’s own mother except she’d killed her husband. Clarke had wondered on more than one occasion while working with Elouise if Jake Griffin had been murdered by Abby. Okay so he died of cancer, but maybe her mother just made it look like cancer. She was a doctor afterall. If anyone could make it look like cancer, it was Abby.

But seeing Bellamy Blake here in the prison made it absolutely impossible to work. She kept trying to discreetly glance at the table where he and his mother were having what looked to be a very chilly visit. Understandably so, after Bellamy had told her why his mother was in jail.

She couldn’t get over the way he looked, disheveled and open, or the way he’d looked at her with panic, then ease, then oh god, he’d looked like he wanted to devour her and she would have been totally down for that. Clarke could imagine all of that happening, she crossed her legs still thinking about it.

But now she was finally done with Mrs. Pointer and she was thanking the guards and digging through her purse for her keys.

“Let me get the door for you since you’re blocking it,” Bellamy said surprising her.

She looked up from her purse and swallowed. “Sorry, I was just looking for my keys.”

“While blocking the exits. Good thing there wasn’t a fire.”

She walked through the door as he held it and went back to her purse, finding her keys at the bottom of her purse. The parking lot was almost empty and she didn’t see his car.

“Did you walk out here?”

“Took a cab, my sister has my car,” he said dialing his phone.

“I can drive you home,” Clarke offered before she really thought about it.

He smiled again and Clarke thought that his smile could probably cure cancer and bring world peace.

“Alright,” he said, slipping his phone into his coat pocket.

It was a two hour drive back to town and she was suddenly nervous. This was a bad idea. What would they talk about? Would they fight?

When they were on the road though, he took the lead and for once, she was grateful, she would never admit it though.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about my mother.”   
  
It was a cool request and a plea intertwined. He was calm but she knew from the way he kept his gaze on the road ahead of them that he was nervous about it.

“Of course,” she answered.

“I’ve worked hard to get where I am and some people might think this says something about my character,” he explained.

Clarke felt bad for him. She glanced at him and saw his jaw tighten.

“My view of you hasn’t changed at all, I still think you’re an asshole and your secret is safe with me.”

He laughed and shook his head, instantly relaxing.

“I deserve that,” he said putting his hand on the back of the headrest of her seat. “And thank you.”

He was more open than even last night. She wasn’t sure if it was the way he was dressed, the strange situation they’d found themselves in, or just that they were so close to the line they never crossed. It was eventual. Were they meant to get to this point?

“Hey, how’d you know my dad was dead?” she asked, remembering his suggestion on getting out of dreaded Valentine’s Day events.

“Griffin, there’s a wing named after him at the hospital. It was local news from the time they broke ground until your mother cut the ribbon,” he said as if it was the dumbest question she’d ever asked him.

“Oh,” she said uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” Bellamy said before clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean, well, I’m sorry you lost your dad.”

“It’s fine,” Clarke said brushing it off but appreciating the apology.

She noticed his arm was still on her headrest and Clarke kept trying to watch him out of the corner of her eye. She liked this. Despite being nervous about it, it was a comfortable feeling, she liked being around him.

“Do you want to get some dinner?” Clarke asked hesitantly, this time keeping her eyes on the road ahead, too scared to see his face.

Bellamy moved his hand from the back of her head rest. She still kept her eyes on the road bracing for rejection.

“Sure,” he finally answered. “But not out, it’s Valentine’s Day, everywhere will be awful. Take out?”

“Definitely take out.” She finally glanced at him, feeling a little more confident. “Thai?”

“Sounds good.”

When they made it to the restaurant, Bellamy opened the door for her and followed her in. Even this little restaurant, the one Clarke always got her takeout from since it was just down the street from her apartment, was packed. Valentine’s Day was the worst. They ordered and then stood awkwardly in the entryway, it was so loud they didn’t even bother trying to make conversation. Just both scrolled through their phones.

“Do you want me to just wait for it, you can go sit in the car?” Clarke offered but Bellamy shook his head.

A few minutes later she desperately wished he’d taken her up on it.

“Clarke?” Her mother’s voice pulled her attention away from her phone.

She felt Bellamy tense beside her. It was Valentine’s Day, not Mother’s Day, why was this happening?  
  
Clarke steeled herself and smiled tightly. “You wanted noodles tonight, too?”

“Marcus is sick, I just wanted to grab something quick on the way home,” Abby explained.

“Should have tried McDonald’s,” Clarke deadpanned.

Abby gave her a look and Clarke was happy to see that her mother was annoyed.   
  
“Who’s this?” she asked as though she were entitled to know who every person who stood next to Clarke was.

“Better order your food, the wait’s not getting any shorter,” Clarke said, dodging the question.

“Order for Clarke,” the man at the counter called but before Clarke could move, Bellamy was paying and taking the bag.

Clarke turned back to her mother who was focused on Bellamy still. “I’m Abby Griffin,” she said putting her hand in front of Bellamy, blocking his exit.

He looked to Clarke and she wasn’t exactly sure what to do, she couldn’t think of any signals to give him or any way to rescue him from the hell he was about to endure. Poor guy would hate her even more after this. All she could do was grimace.

But Bellamy seemed to get an idea. Clarke saw his face change and he turned back to her mother with a smooth smile.

“I’m Bellamy Blake, I work with Clarke.” He shook Abby’s hand firmly and Abby narrowed her eyes.

“As a paralegal?”

The question was uncalled for but Clarke remembered that she was still in her work clothes and Bellamy’s attire did not match her own.

“I’m next in line to be junior partner, but I don’t like to count my chickens,” he said nonplussed. “But I’m also hungry and I don’t want my food to get cold. Have a nice night, Mrs. Griffin.”

“Doctor Griffin,” Abby corrected and Clarke rolled her eyes, but she saw Bellamy knew exactly what he was doing.

“I thought I was meeting my girlfriend’s mom, sorry, a professional introduction requires business cards,” he said while deftly pulling a card from his wallet.

Clarke flushed when she processed what he’d just said. Her mother stood rooted to her spot, in shock, while Bellamy held out the business card. She finally seemed to regain her composure enough to take the card. Bellamy then reached for Clarke’s hand and politely as possible pushed passed Abby.

Clarke tried not to enjoy the feel of his hand in hers. She tried to ignore the way her stomach was fluttering and the way he smelled so good while he was this close to her. She had no problem though, dwelling on the horrified look on her mother’s face. They’d parked right in front of the door and Clarke was so distracted (and a little overstimulated if she were being honest) that she forgot to dig her keys out of her purse. Bellamy put the food on the hood of the car and before she could reach for her keys he was cradling her face and kissing her.

It wasn’t like she’d imagined kissing him. He was soft, gentle, holding her face like she was precious. She’d always fantasized about rough and passionate kisses with him. Like they might consume one another with their pure need. But this kiss was light, he nipped at her lips tenderly, giving just enough contact to make her sigh.

She didn’t know what was happening or why, her mind couldn’t stick to a thought or move forward, she just knew she wanted to keep kissing him. But too soon, he pulled away. He winked at her and motioned to the door with his eyes. Clarke followed his gaze and saw her mother standing slackjawed on the other side of the glass door.

“Gonna find your keys or…?” he prodded her and Clarke snapped out of her daze.

She shook her head, trying to clear it, and dug in her purse. He still stood there in front of her, waiting. Clarke finally found her keys and unlocked the car, and Bellamy walked around her, he opened her door and waited for her to climb in. He closed her door, shamelessly waved at her mother, picked up the food from the hood of the car and climbed in himself.

Well now what the fuck was going to happen, Clarke wondered as she put the car in reverse.

–

Bellamy was very sure his plot to terrify Abby Griffin had worked. He wasn’t sure how it would affect the rest of his night though. It was probably safest to just eat his Pad Thai and call a cab from Clarke’s apartment. He considered telling her to take him home and he’d pass on eating together.

He enjoyed that kiss way too much. Enjoyed it at dangerous levels. He’d gotten the smallest taste of Clarke Griffin and he never wanted to bother with anyone else. His mother wasn’t wrong earlier today. (Bellamy hated that on principle.) He hadn’t really dated since high school. He’d messed around with people in college and law school and was doing the same to this day. It wasn’t strange, he was busy parenting his sister, he had an involved career that required long hours. There was nothing wrong with him not dating seriously.   
  
But just like he suspected, Clarke Griffin was going to fuck all that up. The real problem was _he didn’t care_.

He looked over at her and she seemed happy. The ghost of a smile was on her face and her shoulders that had previously been stiff were more relaxed. Her hair that was always in a bun or a tight braid was coming loose, he tried to remember if he did that while he was kissing her. But all he could remember was the feel of her lips. She turned to him and looked away quickly. Probably because he didn’t look away.

“Sorry, about before, I wasn’t really sure what you wanted me to do with your mom,” Bellamy said. “And then I remembered earlier you said-”

“Shit, I did say that, I’m sorry.” She kept her eyes on the road and he couldn’t help but grin at the way she seemed flustered all over again.

“I figured if you offered to cover for me with my mom, you wouldn’t mind too much if I did the same for you,” he said, enjoying the way she blushed pinker. He wasn’t sure how much deeper her skin would turn. “I guess at some point you’ll have to mention we broke up but it seemed like a good way to make a clean getaway tonight.”

“I hardly ever run into her so that was a terrible coincidence, and I should be apologizing to you, but I always enjoy watching my mom’s eyeballs pop out of her head.” Clarke laughed. “I’m sorry she called you a paralegal. I think my mother was born looking down her nose at people.”

“What about you?”

“I hope you don’t think that about me, I don’t, god, do I come off as snobby?” she asked embarrassed, putting a hand over her mouth.

“You come off as someone who doesn’t know how to have fun, you have an air of money about you, but who doesn’t at the office? We make a lot of money.”

“I know how to have fun,” she argued.

“If you say so,” Bellamy teased.

That comment seemed to put her at ease even more. Last night she’d said she didn’t care what he thought but her posture now showed she was lying.

“Why aren’t you like this at work?” she asked.

“Work is competitive.”

“But you treat other people different, I’ve seen you woo clients,” she countered. “Hell, I’ve seen you flirt with anyone with a pulse. I mean, not me…except last night.”

“Are you asking why I don’t flirt with you?” he asked amused.

“Yes!” she almost shouted and then flashed him a wide smile. He didn’t expect her directness again but he was beginning to like it. “Why are we always at each other’s throats? And not in the fun way.”

Bellamy snorted. “Wait, are we talking about why we fight at work or are you telling me you like being choked?”

“I was joking.” She glared at him as she pulled into the parking garage to her building.

“I actually live just two buildings over,” Bellamy said getting his bearings and avoiding her question. “I can just walk home from here if you want to strip off your clothes and eat your noodles in your underwear while watching The Bachelor.”

She didn’t get more pink this time. Instead she looked at him and smirked.

“I’m not that modest, I don’t have to be alone to eat noodles in my underwear,” Clarke said, her voice husky, causing Bellamy’s body to instantly react.

“Noted,” was all he could manage while she made her way to her parking spot.

Her apartment was not what he expected. It was a mess. The furniture was nice, but it was almost impossible to see under the comforter on the couch, the high heels all over the floor, purses in a pile by the TV, a skirt over the chair, and the table was covered in mail.

His ideas of sex on the couch were on hold because…where?

“You need a housekeeper,” he said.

“You sound like my mother,” she said pulling her shoes off and tossing them behind the couch.

“I just met your mother, that’s a harsh thing to say to someone.” Bellamy put the food down on the coffee table and started making a spot for himself on the couch.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to change,” she said completely unaffected by the mess.

Bellamy picked up the blanket off the couch and started to fold it so he could drape it over the armrest. He caught a glimpse of Clarke’s back as she walked into her bedroom and he stared shamelessly as she untucked her blouse. He could only see her back but he knew she was unbuttoning it and if he was lucky…yes, the universe came through on this one thing, her back was still turned while she took it off, revealing her smooth back that he definitely wanted to touch. Her hair came completely undone and Bellamy wanted to run his hands through it. He had quite the running list of the things he wanted to do to Clarke Griffin. She turned to come back to the living room and he looked away but she came out in her bra and skirt. She looked him dead in the eye, winked, grabbed a pair of pajama pants from the chair, and went back to her room.

“There’s beer in the fridge, help yourself,” she said from the other room.

He pulled his hoodie off and set it on the couch before distracting himself with getting a beer. Maybe drinking would help him not spend the night half-hard waiting for a chance to get Clarke underneath him. The way his day had gone though, he didn’t have much hope.

—

This was a terrible idea. The game of chicken had gotten serious. Except, had he technically accepted defeat with that kiss from earlier? If she could rationalize that kiss as his concession, Clarke could give in.

And he had been staring at her, he’d tried not to show it but she knew.

Despite the circumstances, she’d enjoyed spending the last few hours with him. Any restraint she had last night had slipped out of her grip when he’d kissed her. Any hope she could resist was so far gone now. She pulled on her pajama pants and debated taking off her bra but that seemed a step too far. Grabbing a clean tank top, she headed back to the main room, pulling it on as she went. Maybe she’d catch him staring with a move like that.

He wasn’t in the living room though, she heard him in the kitchen and she peeked around to see him on the phone.

“You could stay home and go to school here…yes, it would save me money but also you might be able to concentrate on school more if you were here,” she heard him say.

He was frustrated. Apparently Bellamy Blake could win big cases against scary judges and wishy washy juries but his sister seemed to be an argument that tired him out. The whole revelation that he had a sister, one he parented, had parented for seven years, it was jarring. It didn’t mesh at all with her ideals of what Bellamy Blake was like away from the office.

“Yeah, have fun, be safe, check in tomorrow, bye,” he said and Clarke busied herself with the food on the coffee table, hoping to hide the way she was eavesdropping.

“Your sister?” Clarke couldn’t help but ask when he came in and handed her a beer.

“Just checking in,” he answered.

He sat down next to her and leaned back on the couch. His legs were spread and his knee was barely touching hers. He took a long pull of his beer and turned back to her.

“You don’t want her to go away to school?” Clarke asked, curious about the whole situation but hoping her question was open ended enough that she wasn’t overstepping.

“She’s not a good student, I”m worried that without me pestering her she’ll just waste her time at school.”

“And you were always a serious student, toiling away, never having any fun?”

“I had plenty of fun, but I paid for that fun, I’m still paying for that fun,” he explained. “I took this job at our soulless firm so I could pay off my mountain of student loans. She won’t have student loans because of me but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to protect my investment.”

“She’s a person, not an investment,” Clarke said, reaching for her noodles.

She was sitting on her leg and she used the movement as an excuse to scoot a little closer so her knee was touching his thigh.

“Thanks for the parenting advice but I’m going to ignore it,” he said taking another drink. “She took my car because she wrecked the car I bought her. She’s a mess.”   
  
“She’s a teenager. I suppose you were the most put together kid ever?” Clarke argued.

“I had to be, my mom wasn’t adult enough, someone needed to make sure we all ate,” he shot back.

Bellamy seemed to reel himself back in. He put his hand on her knee as if the touch was an apology.

“You got school paid for and pissed your mom off in the process. I had to work two jobs and then halfway into law school I had to take over Octavia full time.”

“Your life has been shitty, I’ve heard, but let your sister make her own choices, if she fucks them up, she fucks them up but that’s not on you. You can’t protect her from life and she should get to live it the way every dumb teenager does,” Clarke said while twirling noodles on her fork and then sticking them in her mouth.

At some point she definitely wanted to make out, hopefully have sex with Bellamy Blake, but a girl had to eat and finding out more about this weird familial situation was bonus. She supposed if she wanted to regularly fuck Bellamy she should know these things. But she wondered if maybe that last comment was too direct.

He tried to come back, opening his mouth once or twice like he had something to say but then never getting it out. Finally he leaned his head against the back of the couch and looked at her ceiling.

“I mean, it’s February, so you’ve got until what, May, when she graduates?” she asked and Bellamy nodded still looking at the ceiling. “Obviously she’s got to graduate and you’ve got to usher her to that point, but after that, just let her decide. She might surprise you…or she might fuck it up. But what’s the worst that could happen?”

Bellamy turned his head to look at her. “I can’t believe you actually said that.”

“What?” Clarke asked confused, her fork halfway to her mouth.

“She could get pregnant, she could join a girl gang, she could start vandalizing overpasses with spraypaint, she could overdose on heroin,” Bellamy ticked off on his fingers.

Clarke scoffed. “Are you actually an 80 year old man? Join a girl gang? Do you even watch TV?”

“I work too much to watch TV.”

Clarke tilted her head and gave him a look of concession.

“Take her to the doctor and let her get some birth control and tell her that there’s a conflict of interest so she can’t get into petty crime and expect you to fix it.”

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” he muttered.

“It’s not the hardest,” she said pointing her fork at him. “You graduated from law school, passed the bar, got an obscenely high paying and prestigious job, and managed to keep a child alive while doing it. You’ll survive her going away to college. You might even like it.”

Bellamy gave her a small smile, like he was pleased with what she’d said, and Clarke quickly looked back at her noodles. He was too attractive for his own good. She wondered if scientists could harness that smile to fix global warming somehow (after it had brought world peace and cured cancer, of course).

“I might like it, huh?” Bellamy said sitting up.

The movement surprised her because he ended up so close. He covered her hand that was holding the plastic container of Pad Thai and took it from her, putting it on the coffee table without looking away from her.

Clarke nodded slowly, speechless from how close he was. She could feel his breath on her cheeks.

“I would have more time to do things like go on dates,” he whispered, blatantly looking at her mouth.

Clarke licked her lips, partially because she wanted to kiss him but also because she was worried she might have food on them.

“We’ve been dancing around this for a while, right? It’s not just me?” he asked hesitantly and Clarke nodded slowly again, feeling vindicated but still clueless as to how to proceed.

“I give up,” he said leaning in ever so slightly.

Clarke swallowed and pressed her lips together tightly. Her heart was racing and when Bellamy opened his mouth next Clarke didn’t want to know what he was going to say. His surrender was good enough.

She closed the distance and reached around his neck, shamelessly climbing into his lap while she kissed him. This kiss was like the kind she’d imagined, the fiery kiss that would lead to more. His hands slid under the material of her tanktop in the back and she sighed into his mouth at the touch. It felt good to finally give in. Of course now that they were doing it, she hoped they could get on the same page of doing this a lot. All the time. Non stop.

“I can’t believe I ever thought this was a bad idea,” he said as they broke apart so she could pull his shirt off.

“This is a great idea, the best I’ve ever had,” Clarke bragged before moaning as Bellamy kissed along her jaw.

It was a flurry of tossed clothes and rough movements as messy as her apartment but she had never felt so relieved. The strain of feigning disinterest was too much and Clarke couldn’t wait for the lightness that she hoped would follow. She ended up straddling him, bracing herself on the back of the couch. When he was finally inside of her she whimpered and he groaned into her neck.

They moved with purpose and she was pleasantly surprised at the ease of it. She’d read in some shitty women’s magazine that some people were just more sexually compatible than others. Clarke had assumed that it was flowery bullshit to fill a glossy page but she was ready to change her stance completely.

“How long have we worked together?” Bellamy asked when they’d finished and were blissfully catching their breath, her back against the armrest, his against the seat back of the couch.

Clarke thought for a minute, her brain was still lazy as she was coming down from her orgasmic high.

“Four years? I think?” she said.

She stretched languidly, her legs going in the air in front of Bellamy. He pulled her calf to his lips and then let go. It was tender and sweet and her heart fluttered a little.

“We waited four years too long to do that,” Bellamy said with a sigh.

“Let’s make up for it by doing it like at least one more time tonight,” Clarke suggested and he nodded in agreement.

They spent the rest of the night watching shitty TV before heading to bed. The second time they had sex was at a more relaxed pace that eventually had them both panting. The kisses more like the one from the restaurant, where he wanted to taste her for hours. There was an intimacy to it that Clarke hadn’t yet experienced with anyone and she hoped it wasn’t just a fluke.

Clarke fell asleep with her arm over his middle, content.

–

_364 Days Later_

“Do you want me to drive you tomorrow?” Clarke asked, her voice muffled because her head was under her pillow.

They’d raced each other to bed after coming home together. They were working on two separate cases, both very involved, causing late nights at the office. If Clarke hadn’t moved in two months ago they might never see each other. (Well, that wasn’t completely true, they’d managed to sneak into the supply room and have sex at lunch time an extraordinary number of times.)

The firm had a no dating policy but Clarke and Bellamy had been discreet and their working relationship hadn’t really changed (except for the supply closet rendezvous.) They still fought all the time, they still pushed each other, they still glared often. But it seemed to bring out the best in their work. When they worked together, they were better.

“I can manage all on my own this year, thank you,” he said turning off the light and settling into bed,

“Still hate Valentine’s Day?” she asked, lifting her head up and fluffing the pillow she’d previously camped under so to rest her head on top of it.

“I hate visiting my mom,” he said turning on his side to face her. “I wouldn’t mind picking up noodles and sitting home with you, having sex on the couch again.”

Clarke hummed in agreement, scooting closer to him, burrowing her face into his neck and kissing his skin there.

“Shit,” she said suddenly pulling back. “We can’t.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday, I know you’re going to go in but no one will be there past five, everyone’s going out and you won’t get any work done, you can surely take a break,” he said.

Clarke snickered. “No, you dork, it’s Valentine’s Day but it’s also President’s Day weekend. Octavia is coming home for the weekend.”

“Shit.”

“Sex will have to be in bed, not on the couch,” Clarke added.

“You were right, I like her not being here.”

“You admitting I’m right deserves to be recorded but it’s late and I’m tired.” Clarke yawned. “But I’ll get the noodles and I’ll see you when you get home. I’ll even entertain Octavia if I have to.”

“So you’ll make sure she’s set up with the wifi password and then work until I get home.”

“That’s what entertain means, babe.”

Bellamy laughed. Clarke and Octavia didn’t get along great but he was beginning to think that Octavia didn’t get along with anyone very well.

“Do you still hate Valentine’s Day?” he asked remembering her similar feelings.

“As long as we don’t run into my mom, I’ll be fine,” she answered softly, almost asleep. “And I wouldn’t turn down a bag of chocolate.”

“Got it, you get the noodles, I’ll get the Kit Kats.” Bellamy kissed the top of her head and drifted off to sleep.

This year’s Valentine’s Day would be just fine.

 


End file.
